


Oblivious, but not unaware

by ThatDesiGirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (cough cough it's Derek), 5+1 Things, Cuddling & Snuggling, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Gratuitous Star Trek References, Humor, Kid Fic, Kinda, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Possessive Behavior, Sourwolf Derek Hale, Stiles is a Tease, Witches, can you tell how fluffy this is yet, lol I'm glad that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 17:56:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDesiGirl/pseuds/ThatDesiGirl
Summary: aka five times Stiles and Derek didn’t know they were in a relationship and the one time they did





	Oblivious, but not unaware

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends so I love writing fluff and I've been in kind of a creative slump as of late so enjoy this mushy sweetness~

**1.**  
Stiles Stilinski is many things. 

He’s funny. He tells the most crude, childish jokes, wheedling his way under people’s skins until they laugh along with him. It helped him first become friends with Scott back in elementary school, it helped him deal with tough life-threatening situations (because God knows Stiles has been through one too many), and it helped him cope. 

He’s smart. Although his ADHD-rattled brain drives him up the wall and then back down for another round, when he finds something to focus on, he absorbs it better than store-brand (store brand!) paper towels. It’s how he managed to barely pass classes back in highschool, how he managed to memorize the entire history of circumcision, and most importantly, it’s how he learned about werewolf packs. After all, what sane person surrounded by supernatural creatures _wouldn’t_ want to know all they could about them? Of course, this ended up in a lot of Q &A’s with Deaton, bless the man’s infinite patience, but it was worth it for Stiles. 

He’s a peacemaker. Stiles has trouble believing it himself, what with the whole Nogitsune fiasco (not to mention the lingering PTSD and nightmares, but that’s neither here nor there), but in all honesty, Stiles probably saved Beacon Hills from seeing more bloodshed. Stiles had single-handedly negotiated the whole territory issue between Derek’s pack and Scott’s pack over dinner at his house. Of course, the aura was kind of awkward, since the wolves on Derek’s side tended to be a little more intense (read: Erica and Boyd) than the people on Scott’s side (read: Stiles), but in the end, Stiles had gotten Derek around to seeing how two packs in one area weren’t so bad, especially if _Scott_ was the alpha of one of them. 

Stiles had to admit he was pretty proud of figuring that situation out, since now that Scott’s pack and Derek’s were on better terms, they became closer. 

He’s also a very tactile person. 

Stiles can’t help it— all throughout elementary and middle school, his only friend was Scott, and although Stiles loves him like a brother, it wasn’t a lot of human-to-human contact. He was people-deprived. 

When he and Scott got roped into the supernatural underworkings of Beacon Hills, and when they inevitably made new friends and allies, no one can blame Stiles for getting a little handsy. He fistbumps Scott whenever they see each other, loops an arm around Isaac’s shoulders (the dude’s tall, but he leans down for Stiles which Stiles absolutely _adores_ ), pats Boyd on the back, hugs Lydia, and even paints Erica’s nails because _fuck_ gender roles. He high fives Jackson sometimes because surprisingly, his doucheassery level has reduced. Side note, Lydia is wonderful influence on him. 

They got used to him quickly— Stiles figures that wolves are pretty tactile creatures as well, and although not all of them were wolves (mainly Lydia and Allison, actually), it’s probably not the weirdest thing that they’ve experienced. 

Another thing about Stiles was that he loved movie nights, and was a huge proponent of forced Friday pack movie nights. 

And so, on a particular Friday night, they’re watching _Star Trek_ in the Hale House, which Derek’s pack and Stiles had convinced him to renovate. Sure, the house had horrible, terrible, no good memories associated with it, which is why Stiles thinks that they should take it in their own hands to make their own good memories there. 

The movie choice was a compromise, really, because Stiles wanted to watch _Star Wars_ for the fourth time, and Lydia wanted a hot lead (“I’d prefer Chris Hemsworth, but Pine is a close second”), so _Star Trek_ was the happy medium. 

Of course, Stiles felt like he was betraying the _Star Wars_ franchise by settling for second best, but he supposed he could make an exception for today. 

They’re spread out on the couch like peas in a pod, some of them sitting in front of the couch on the floor. Stiles has snagged a spot right next to Derek, who he claims is a walking, talking space heater. Derek had snorted when he said that, but also hadn’t disagreed. 

_At least he’s self-aware_. 

The movie started, and with it, Stiles started fidgeting. 

Although Stiles was many things, he wasn’t a stagnant person. He was always changing, always moving, never staying too long in one place. Blame it on his ADHD or blame it on his personality, but he can just never stay still. So, it’s no surprise to Derek when Stiles starts shaking his leg. It’s not too distracting, but it’s still _noticeable_. 

And then he starts leaning closer into Derek, seeking his body warmth already. However, he doesn’t make a move further than that, as if he’s waiting for permission subconsciously. 

Derek rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around Stiles’s waist, pulling him in closer until he’s practically on top of Derek’s lap. What? It’s the most efficient way to transfer heat, that’s all there is to it. It was weird at first for Derek, how Stiles seemed to seek him out every movie night whether he knew it or not, but it also flattered him a little bit. After a while of Stiles just trying to burrow into Derek, Derek just sort of ended up wrapping his arm around the human. He thought that Stiles would reject his touch right then and there, and his heart was in his throat, but then Stiles leaned into him. 

It was a really good feeling. 

And if Derek notices the way that Stiles’s body immediately relaxes in his grip, the way that his legs stop shaking, the way that he practically melts against Derek’s chest, he says nothing about it. If his inner wolf is purring like a damn cat at this point, Derek doesn’t make a big deal out of it. 

Just another typical pack movie night. It doesn’t matter that his breath is hot on Stiles’s nape, that he can count the moles on Stiles’s arms, that sometimes Stiles smells like Derek just because they’re practically on top of each other. 

As Jim Kirk is on trial for hacking into the Kobayashi Maru, Stiles shifts against Derek and ends up taking Derek’s arms and wrapping them around himself. 

“God, how the hell are you so _warm_?” 

Derek rumbles, sure that Stiles can feel the vibration from where his back is glued to Derek’s toned chest, and responds, “I run hotter than humans do.” 

“Joke’s on you, I don’t run at all, and I’m _still_ hot.” 

Derek blinks before deadpanning, “the jury’s still out on that one. Also, that’s a terrible joke.” 

Stiles stifles a laugh, before saying dramatically, “I’m hurt, but it’s okay. Sourwolf, you’re my forever girl.” 

Heat rushes to Derek’s face, before he realizes that those words are familiar. He remembers how Stiles had sat down with him and made him watch some anime-styled cartoon. They had ended up hanging out for five hours, the boy completely taking Derek away from the chores he wanted to finish that day. 

_”It’s a talent,”_ Stiles had said.

_”What, distracting me all day?”_

_“No, getting you to take breaks and live life a little.”_

_Derek snorts. “And binge watching a children’s show is ‘living life’?”_

_Stiles nodded wisely. “Yes indeed, young one. Yes indeed.”_

“Is that a fucking _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ reference?” 

Stiles turned around, his amber eyes glittering in awe. He was practically nose to nose with the wolf at this angle, and although Derek wasn’t complaining, the amount of shifting Stiles was doing on his lap wasn’t very conducive to maintaining Derek’s less and less appropriate state of arousal for the situation at hand. 

“You remembered,” he said, adoration clear in his words. It used to intimidate him, how Stiles was so open with his emotions sometimes, how if he trusted you, his surprise and happiness and sorrow was written on his face like an open book. 

“You just called me a girl,” he said, although there was no offended tone behind it. 

“That’s a fair point, but last week you called me a dust bunny, so I think this is payback.” 

“I was trying to vacuum the floor and you decided to sprawl out on the carpet for literally no good reason other than to annoy me. I think my description was adequate.” 

“You tried to vacuum me up!” 

“Can you love birds shut it? Spock’s about to lay _into_ Jim.” Erica seethed, her eyes flashing. The way she says “lay” is just too good a moment for Stiles to pass up responding in kind. 

“Erica, I think you’re reading into the unresolved sexual tension between those two. They’re not that gay. In this movie, at least.” Stiles said sagely. The blonde swats at him, since everyone know

“Yeah, they’re much gayer in the next movie.” Unexpectedly, it’s Scott who pipes up from besides Isaac. Jackson whistles and claps Scott on the back. Scott shrugs. 

“Well, he’s not wrong.” Stiles says, pride in his voice. 

“Besides,” Lydia says, “I think there’s enough unresolved sexual tension in this room for me.” 

Isaac lets out a snort of laughter, and Derek shifts beside him. If Stiles had turned to look at the alpha, he would have noticed a blush on his face. 

But instead, he just said, “what?” eliciting more chuckles from Isaac, Erica, and Lydia. 

So naturally, Stiles flung a pillow at Erica’s face, pointing an accusatory finger at Boyd when she whirled around. In turn, Erica threw a Dorito at Stiles, which ended up landing in Isaac’s hair. Scott proceeded to pick up the Dorito and eat it, resulting in Stiles throwing more food at Isaac just to see Scott take it and eat it. 

Just a typical movie night with the pack. 

**2.**  
Stiles likes to think that he’s great with children. 

That’s not to say he’s had a lot of experience with kids. Growing up, he would have loved to have a younger sibling, but Scott had already filled that void. Scott didn’t have any younger siblings either, and, well, since Scott had made up most of Stiles’s social circle, it’s obvious that Stiles didn’t really get to spend a lot of time with kids. 

However, he recently found out that Boyd comes from a huge family, and what’s more is that he has not one but _three_ younger siblings. When this information came upon Stiles, he joked that all of Boyd’s talkativity probably went to his siblings. The corners of the well-built man’s lips had upturned a fraction of an inch, which was as close to a grin that Stiles was going to get. He considered it a pretty wholesome victory. 

Anyways, on Saturday night, Boyd had wanted to take Erica out on a date, but unfortunately his parents were out of town that weekend, so that left him to take care of his six month old infant brother. 

“His other two siblings are old enough to stay home alone, but not old enough to stay home alone with an infant, according to Boyd’s parents,” Erica had lamented, clearly looking forward to spending some downtime with her boyfriend. She let out a dramatic sigh, before leaning against Boyd. The man didn’t even move an inch, and Stiles wonders if there were a possible alternate universe where he himself were built like a wall as well. 

“Why did I decide to date such a family man?” Erica mock swooned, wrapping her arms around Boyd. He rolled his eyes in response, an eye roll that could even put Derek to shame, and leaned down and kissed Erica. 

“I’m sorry I love my family,” he said with amusement. 

“As you should be.” 

Maybe it was because Stiles’s heart was warmed by their banter, or maybe it was because he didn’t think things through at all before speaking, but he said, “We can babysit your brother.” 

Isaac choked on his apple, Scott thumping his back wildly until the boy’s face returned to a normal shade. 

Boyd didn’t look convinced, but Erica… 

She wore the “fuck it” expression of a person who knew they were about to make a questionable decision but _fuck it_. 

“I mean, it can’t hurt.” Erica relented after a moment of silence. 

“Erica—” Boyd began, but Stiles cut him off. 

“Besides, I’d have Scott and Derek and Isaac to help me.” 

“Actually, Scott has a date too,” Scott piped up from his spot on the couch, cuddling Allison. Didn’t anyone ever tell him, bros before— 

“And Isaac is horrible with children. And people in general, really,” Isaac says. 

“Derek’s going to help you with what?” a voice came down from the stairs. It was the devil himself, fresh out of the shower and looking as fine as _hell_ (see what he did there?). 

Stiles turned around, flashing the wolf his best smile. Unfortunately, Derek knew him too well, as his ever-lasting grimace only deepened as suspicion was clear in the frown of his thick brows. Stiles supposes he should be hurt at this, but some part of him is flattered that Derek knows him that well, because let’s be honest, even Stiles would be suspicious at his own up-to-no-good “innocent” smile. 

“We’re babysitting Boyd junior!” He declared with gusto. 

“It’s Marcus, actually.” Boyd corrected. 

Derek looked between the three of them, seeing Boyd’s less than certain face, Erica’s somewhat hopeful one, and Stiles’s overexcited one. Stiles likes to think it’s the latter that convinces him to finally grumble, “fine, but if it shits, Stiles can deal with that.” 

“ _It_?” Isaac echoes, but Stiles waves the naysayer’s voice away. 

“Yeah, yeah, besides, it’ll be fun, like one of those school projects where the couple has to keep an egg unbroken for a day!” Stiles says this with an alarming amount of excitement. 

“Stiles. Stiles, I need you to understand that Marcus is not an egg. If you crack him, you can’t just get a new one at the supermarket,” Erica said, looking at Stiles seriously. Even Boyd looks a little queasy at this point, so Stiles just turns to Derek for help. 

The alpha lets out a small sigh before saying, “Before the fire, I used to babysit my little cousin. He was about a year old, so yes, I know how to handle children without breaking them.” 

Erica and Stiles look to Boyd, Stiles biting his lip in anticipation as he awaits the verdict. 

Although the stoic man looks a tinge uncertain (note: a tinge is equal to a ton for normal, emotion-experiencing humans), he finally relents, “I’m only saying yes because Derek is there.” 

Stiles counts it as a win. 

… 

They show up to Boyd’s house together, Stiles having volunteered to pick Derek up in his jeep. Derek, of course, regretted riding in what he so lovingly called the _death trap_ , which Stiles resented because the jeep was his _baby_ , but that’s besides the point. 

When they knock the door, it flies open almost instantly, revealing Erica in a beautiful crimson red mini-dress and lipstick to match, and Boyd in a suit with a matching red tie, with Marcus in his arms. 

Stiles let out a low whistle. “Damn Erica—” 

“Yes, yes, I know I’m _gorgeous_ ,” The blonde said quickly, waving away all sense of formalities, “so the baby food is in the top left cabinet, the diapers are in the ground floor bathroom shelf below the sink, we left blankets and toys for y’all in the living room, there are safety covers over every outlet and we’ll be back in four hou—” 

“Okay, okay, no worries, we got this!” Stiles said, grabbing Erica by the hand and steering her out of the house. “You two crazy kids have fun at whatever fancy restaurant, and Daddy Derek and I will take care of Boyd junior.” 

“Marcus,” Boyd corrected. 

“Mhm,” Stiles agreed, taking Marcus from his arms before pushing Boyd out the door. 

They waved goodbye to Erica and Boyd, Stiles even making a show of holding up Marcus’s hand and waving it, before the two drove away. 

“Did you just call me _daddy_?” Derek said, an eyebrow raised. 

“Most definitely.” Because really, there was no other answer. 

The wolf simply nodded, taking it in stride, before the two disappeared into the house. 

The first hour with Marcus went swimmingly. Stiles had figured out how to put _Dora the Explorer_ on Boyd’s living room TV, and the toddler’s brown eyes were glued to the screen. He sat on Stiles’s lap the whole time, and everytime Swiper came on the screen, Stiles would let out little squeals, pretending to be scared, which absolutely thrilled Marcus.

Derek just sat next to them, amusement clear on his face.

“What’re you smiling about, Derbear?” 

“Please never call me that again.” 

“Daddy Derek?” 

The wolf flushed a deep shade of red, and Stiles realizes the implications of what he just said. 

“You know, you actually seem to be good with kids.” Derek deflected, not quite meeting Stiles’s amber eyes. 

“Are you surprised? It’s one of my many hidden talents.” Stiles said conspiratorially, before Marcus turns around in his lap and tries to grab at his mouth. Stiles muffles an amused laugh— it seems that everytime Stiles talked, his lips moved, and this intrigued Marcus to no end. 

Of course, this also brought Derek’s attention to Stiles’s unfairly pink, plump lips. 

“Oh? What are your other talents then?” 

Stiles seemed to mull this over for a bit, maintaining a serious thinking face while Marcus was pawing at his cheeks now. Stiles paused to take one of Marcus’s chubby hands and pretend to bite on it, the baby squealing in utter delight. 

Derek is glad that Stiles isn’t a werewolf, or else he would have heard Derek’s heart stutter like the sap he was. 

“Well, I can play _hot cross buns_ on the recorder. Though, that was back in grade school, so I might be a little rusty.” 

“Right. On an unrelated note, how was your high school dating life again?” Derek asked innocently, resisting the urge to smirk like an ass when Stiles shot him a withering look. 

“Haha, Humorwolf, right?” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Your face is ridiculous.” 

Derek thinks that their banter would have kept going if not for Marcus’s face scrunching up in distaste, as if someone had just told him that he had a 14 page paper due on Friday (because babies should never have to write academic papers over 5 pages long, nor should regular aged people). 

“Uh oh,” Stiles mutters as Marcus pouts out his bottom lip, trembling until his eyes screw closed and he’s _wailing_ like he just learned about the realities of college tuition in America. 

“Okay, okay,” Stiles chides, trying to calm down the child, but Derek can tell that Stiles’s own anxiety level is slowly rising as well. He bounces Marcus up and down gently, until Marcus’s crying slowly simmers down… 

Just to start back up again. 

Derek winces at the decibel, wondering how a being so small can aggravate his poor wolf hearing so much. 

“Derek, you don’t think he’s hungry again, right? We just fed him, so I don’t see what’s wrong?” Stiles looked to the alpha with wide amber eyes, his complete trust in the man beside him painfully evident. His statements sounded more like questions, voice getting higher pitched at the end of each sentence. 

Derek hesitated, before holding his arms out for the child. Stiles handed him over gently, making sure Derek’s grip was firm before letting go. 

“I, um, used to do this to my cousin when he cried. I don’t know if it’ll work, though,” Derek said, feeling a little awkward as Stiles nodded intently. A pang of sadness cut through him for a moment as he remembered his little cousin, another life taken away by the fire, but he pushed the thought away, instead looking at the life that he held in his hands at this very moment. 

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then opened them. 

He could hear a sharp intake of breath from Stiles, but smelled no fear on him. 

Marcus was looking at him properly now, staring at him in that pure look of open awe that every baby seemed to be born with. Derek allowed himself a little satisfied smirk as the child’s cries subsided. After all, it was a little hard to ignore Derek’s glowing red alpha eyes.

In fact, with the way Stiles was looking at him in awe, he thinks that he’s got Stiles mesmerized a little as well. It makes him feel both self-conscious and proud at the same time. 

“That’s _genius_ ,” Stiles breathes, and Derek can feel his face redden a bit. 

Marcus elegantly breaks the moment by letting out a self-satisfied sigh, and Derek can _smell_ the cause of that sigh. 

“Stiles,” he wrinkled his nose, “I think it’s time for you to get that diaper now.” 

“Oh shit, seriously?” Stiles said getting up and making a beeline for the bathroom, but not before stopping, turning around and going, “haha, I said shit. Literally, shit.” 

Derek growled. “ _Stiles_.” 

“Okay, yeah going, going!” And with that Stiles disappeared around a corner. 

He was gone for a minute. And then a minute turned to two. And then two turned to five. 

Derek considered getting up and looking for a diaper himself, but after another five minutes, Stiles came back, a diaper not in hand but rather one of Boyd’s old t-shirts. 

“Stiles,” Derek says, imbuing his concerns in that one word. 

“Okay, yeah, I couldn’t find the diapers where Erica said they were, so I looked in all the other cabinets in the bathroom and still didn’t find anything, so I decided this is the next best thing.” 

Stiles set up the diaper-changing mat on the carpeted floor, and took Marcus from Derek, placing him gently on the floor. 

“So what, you’re just going to use Boyd’s shirt instead?” Derek said, disbelief evident in his tone. Honestly, at this point, he should know better than to be surprised at the shit Stiles pulls. 

“Yes, it’s another one of my many talents, Derbear— I take what I have and work with it. And if that means making a makeshift diaper out of Boyd’s shirt, then I will do it. For Boyd junior!” He pumps his fist heroically and says the last sentence in an accent similar to a knight of Camelot. 

And then he proceeds to fold Boyd’s shirt into a pretty damn good DIY diaper if Stiles does say so himself. 

“All done!” Stiles chimes, before blowing raspberries into Marcus’s stomach. The infant shrieked in delight and tried to grab Stiles’s nose, and Stiles just scrunched up his face playfully in response. 

God, he was going to be the death of Derek, wasn’t he?

… 

In the last hour, Marcus’s eyes were fluttering shut, and so were Stiles’s. However, Marcus refused to let go of Stiles, and although Stiles didn’t say it, he refused to leave Derek’s side. So, the only logical outcome was for the three to occupy the sofa. Derek’s arms snaked around Stiles, holding him tight, while Stiles sandwiched Marcus safely between them, a blanket wrapped snugly around them. 

As they drifted off to sleep, Derek couldn’t help but wonder how _right_ it felt with Stiles’s head fitting in the crook of his neck, his heart beating steadily, one hand clasped around Derek’s arm and the other holding Marcus steady. 

It felt like home. 

… 

When Erica and Boyd got home, Erica positively delighted at the adorable sight before them, taking many pictures of the three sleeping like kittens curled up together, but Boyd was a little more confused. 

“Is that my shirt?” 

**3.**  
Beacon Hills is never peaceful for long, and couple that with being a part of a werewolf pack means that chaos usually rolls into to town every so often. 

Stiles thinks its an occupational hazard, and even though he’d probably give away half of his college fund just to have some _peace and quiet_ , he also thinks that some moments make it worth it. 

Like tonight, when he, Derek, Erica, Isaac, Scott and Boyd were a part of a stakeout. Rumor has it that a coven of witches had strolled into town, and they were trying to figure out if they were up to no good or not. Of course, Stiles had laughed when Derek brought up the issue, wondering how “a bunch of old hags” could ever give them hell, but Scott looked serious. 

“Dude, what if they like, _avada kadavra_ your balls off?” 

That sent a shiver down Stiles’s spine. “Okay, wrong use of the spell, but point taken.” 

So now, Stiles and Derek took the front seats of his jeep, Stiles’s having called shotgun because _duh_ , his car his rules, which left Erica and Isaac in the back seats. Scott and Boyd were in another car on the opposite side of the house they were currently staking out. 

“I still think we should have taken the Camaro,” Derek grumbled. 

Stiles rubbed the dashboard of his car soothingly. “Shh, don’t listen to the big bad wolf, he just doesn’t know what true beauty is.” 

That earned him a death glare from Derek. If Stiles were still a freshman, he would have cowered in his seat, but now, he just found the expression endearing. Like a baby tiger trying to growl at its own reflection. 

“Besides, the Camaro is too suspicious. No one’s _that_ rich down here— except maybe Jackson, but I think he’d rather die than let us touch his precious car.” 

Derek let out a noncommittal grunt, and turned back to watching the house. 

It was one of the longest hours of Stiles’s life. The most action they got was one of the women in the house coming outside to take out the trash. It may have just been Stiles’s imagination, but there was a slight possibility that she looked at their jeep, lingered for just a second longer than what is considered normal, and then disappeared into the house. 

But it didn’t mean anything, right? 

“Fuck, why is it so cold in here?” Stiles breathed, suddenly feeling the effects of the winter air. 

“Turn up the heat,” Isaac suggested helpfully. 

“Or just let Derek bite you right here and now, and become a werewolf with a higher body temperature,” Erica suggested unhelpfully. 

“As tempting as that is, I’m gonna take a hard pass.” Stiles rolled his eyes, turning up the heat. He knew that it would take a while to feel the effect, but five minutes passed and then ten and he was still shivering in his _Star Wars_ themed converse. 

“Stiles?” 

“Derek.” Stiles replied evenly, although it was hard to do so when his teeth were chattering in rebellion. 

The werewolf looked at him for a moment, seemingly having an internal debate, before sighing and reaching out his arm. Stiles immediately clutched at it, bringing the toned muscle closer to his core. It was like his very own hot pack (haha, _pack_ ), except more alive and way more attractive. 

“You’re like a leech,” the wolf grumbled, no malice behind his voice. 

“And you’re like my personal space heater.” Stiles grinned back. 

In the back, Erica and Isaac shared a look, Erica rolling her eyes and making gagging motions. Isaac chuckled, and maybe Stiles and Derek would have noticed if they weren’t so invested in each other. 

And then it got even _colder_. 

“M-m-motherfuck,” Stiles stuttered out. 

“You kiss your… whoever you kiss, with that mouth?” Erica quipped, and Stiles tried to flip her the bird but even the motion was pathetic. 

“Dude, you’re turning a little blue,” Isaac said, worry punctuating his words. 

_Time for plan B_ , Stiles conceded, removing his seatbelt and shakily climbing into the seat next to him. Which of course, also happened to have Derek on it. 

He sat facing Derek, wrapping his limbs around the alpha like an affection-deprived sloth, sitting his ass down in Derek’s lap and burying his head into his shoulder. All at once, warmth surrounded him and he felt cozier than a kitten wrapped in a blanket. He felt _safe_. The fact that Derek immediately shifted to make room for the other, wrapping his arms around Stiles as well, made it ten times better. 

By the low whistle Erica let out and the none-too-conspicuous coughs Isaac let out, Stiles solution was less than innocent. 

“Jeez, Bambi-eyes, if you wanted to give your boo a lap dance, couldn’t you at least give a girl a warning? Or at least give me some time to grab popcorn,” Erica drawled salaciously. Isaac let out a scandalized squeak, his pale face bursting into flames of red blushes, and if Stiles had bothered to look up at Derek’s face, he would have noticed the wolf’s matching shade of red cheeks. 

“It’s for the stakeout,” Derek said gruffly, not turning back to make eye contact with either of his betas. 

“Mhm, yeah, stakeout,” Erica said, before settling back and grumbling something about how her lap dances to Boyd could give Derek and Stiles a run for their money. Derek pretended he didn’t hear her, not wanting the mental image in his head today or ever. 

The weight in his arms was a comfort actually, and by the way Stiles’s breathing had evened out, by the way his heartbeat was no longer erratic as a result of underlying anxiety, Derek could tell that the boy had fallen asleep in his arms in a matter of minutes. 

A wave of protectiveness surged over him, and he brought Stiles in closer, tightening his grip. Stiles mumbled some gibberish into his shoulder, which was rather endearing, and Derek allowed himself a small grin knowing that tomorrow he would tease Stiles all about how he drooled over the wolf. But for now, he’d let him rest. 

After another half hour, Derek was about to call the stakeout over, but then—

“Holy shit, I think one of them is coming to us,” Erica breathed, and shook Isaac out of his dozing. 

“Should we get out? Or just let her come to us? I like the latter option,” Isaac said slowly, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

However, the woman decided for them. It was the same blonde soccer-mom-ish lady who had taken out the trash earlier, and now she just looked annoyed. She stalked right up to them, wearing a _Canada Goose_ winter coat, and rapped on Derek’s window quickly in succession. 

Derek debated rolling down the window for a second, because she really reminded him of his own mother when she got annoyed, and when he finally did he half expected her to ask “can I talk to the manager” but disappointingly (Stiles would have found it hilarious), she didn’t. 

“Can you please get off my property?” She said impatiently, and yeah it was a reasonable request, but Derek just blinked at her. She clearly wasn’t fazed by the human sleeping on his lap, or the two people piled in the back of the car. 

“We’re not on your property—” he tried to respond, but she cut him off. 

“Yes, yes, I get it, you’re on the outskirts or whatever, and you’re trying to scout out the new witches in town yeah?” She stopped for a moment, as if she were tasting the air before saying, “werewolves. _That’s_ why my spell didn’t work on you.” 

Immediately, Derek’s eyes flashed red and his fangs threatened to elongate. 

“What _spell_? What did you do?” He growled, absolutely dripping intimidation, but if the witch was scared, she showed it in a funny way. 

She simply raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms in an expression that simply screamed, ‘oh, you did _not_ just yell at me’. 

“I just lowered the temperature in this very localized area to drive y’all out. Because really, y’all do know how to flatter a girl by waiting outside my house, kinda like my ex-boyfriend did— and he wasn’t even a werewolf, in bed or otherwise,” the witch said, going off on a tangent that had Derek thoroughly confused. “But anyhow, I guess my spell only affected your human friend. At least, it helped you and your friend here get a little closer, didn’t it?” 

She finally acknowledged Stiles, who snored in response and tried to burrow deeper into Derek. Derek clutched him even tighter. 

“Cute,” the witch deadpanned. “Anywho, we’re not here to wreak any havoc, and if you want, you can even visit us later. Daytime, preferably, because not all of us thrive when the moon is high in the night sky. Now please leave— and also get your friends out back to leave as well. Alright, toodles, lover boy.” 

And with that, she sashayed back into the house, leaving Derek thoroughly confused and Erica in a bout of laughter. 

“I like her.” Erica decided. 

**4.**  
They don’t even need to be together for the pack to see it. 

It’s in the way they talk about each other, the way that Stiles’s amber eyes sparkle with a fire that he only has whenever he’s ranting about _Star Wars_ or about how net neutrality is a basic human right. 

When he’s honorarily invited to Lydia, Allison, and Erica’s girls’ night out, they’re sitting in the nail salon getting their nails done. The nice Chinese lady didn’t say a thing, just raised her eyebrows and seated Stiles down as she worked on his nails, which Stiles counted as a win because _fuck_ gender roles. 

“Isaac is kind of hot in like, your best friend’s younger brother kind of way,” Erica said, bottom lip slightly pouted out as she mused on the subject. Her lips curled in a slightly devilish grin as she turned to Allison. “I mean, what do you think? You did roll in the hay for a bit with the twink,” she said with what Stiles could only describe as a leer. 

Allison made a show of gagging. “That was only for a bit, and honestly, he was kind of a rebound from Scott. But now, me and Scott are happily together,” she emphasized the last words almost threateningly, as if testing anyone to challenge her. 

Even Erica knew better than to press her luck there, so instead she nodded and said, “well, no one’s hotter than Vernon, that’s for sure,” her voice just oozed double meaning and Stiles mind blissfully traveled through every possible implication. 

“I’d have to disagree on principle,” Allison said, smiling. 

“ _Au contraire_ ,” Lydia chimed in, “you can be dating someone and think that someone else is hotter, objectively of course. I mean I’m all for Jackson, but have you _seen_ Derek?”

Stiles found himself nodding with the other girls until he stopped himself, a traitorous blush coming to his cheeks. Of course, Erica could sniff out a weak link like a, well, _wolf_. She turned to Stiles this time and grinned, and the boy could practically imagine the devil’s horns cartoonishly popping up out of her head. 

“Oh, Bambi, you haven’t said anything— what do you think?” The question was said innocently enough, which probably should have raised alarms within Stiles’s head. 

And, in true Stiles fashion, when stuck between a rock and a sharp place, he did the one thing he knew how to do: talk. 

“Well, Scott is practically my brother so that’s a huge _no_. Isaac is kind of a weird case, because _yeah_ he’s hot, but also I can’t get rid of the thought that he’s been with Allison. Who’s with Scott. Which, by proxy, kind of makes him my brother too, in a weird twisted way. Boyd is fine as _hell_ , and although I’d love to get a taste of those abs and probably the rest of him, I don’t ever want to incur Erica’s wrath, so my boner will just have to be disappointed.” He lamented dramatically. Erica’s rakish grin of approval both terrified him and didn’t surprise him at all. 

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Allison prompted. 

“Oh yeah, Jackson’s just kind of a dick. Hot bod though,” he said, shrugging apologetically at Lydia, who just rolled her eyes. 

“She meant Derek, you imbecile.” 

“Oh,” was all Stiles said, his mind’s theater suddenly featuring a huge-screen slideshow of Derek Hale memories, all in picture-perfect HD. Sure, Derek had amazing, firm muscles that Stiles would love to run his hands over, feel the taut skin stretched out over his wiry tendons, memorize the stubble and the curve of his chin. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind pulling his body flush over Derek’s, vibrating with every thumping shared heartbeat, exhilaration coursing through him. It wasn’t just the physical aspects that rushed through his mind in a whip-lash inducing moment. 

There were emotions, warmth and hilarity, the way that Derek would respond to Stiles’s jumbled mass of thoughts and speech with deadpan humor, the way he understood the maelstrom of underlying anxiety that was always just _there_ , the way he kept Stiles safe and warm, the way they bantered and the way they argued and the way they co-existed— 

“Yeah, he’s cool.” 

It was a lame response, and Stiles is sure that his face is as red as a firetruck, but he can’t quite bring himself to care, not with the memories flooding through him in a rather refreshing wave. 

He didn’t notice the knowing glance that the three girls shared, or the way that Erica muttered, “God, I wish Vernon were that whipped for me.”

… 

It’s 3:30 P.M. on a Thursday. 

Derek paces the Hale House living room impatiently, stopping to check his cell phone for the fifth time in the past minute.

The last text Stiles had sent him was that morning. 

_Received: coming over rite after school sourwolf— b there!!_

_Sent: What for?_

_Received: hohohoho_

_Received: wouldnt u like 2 kno_

_Sent: Stiles._

_Received: its a surprise, bitch!_

Derek had stifled a snort when he saw the “surprise, bitch” gif that Stiles had sent him following that text. 

_Received: 3:00 sharp! see u then!_

_Sent: ...fine_

The alpha was equal parts intrigued and also vaguely horrified at what exactly Stiles meant by “surprise”. Stiles’s sense of humor could be delightful, but other times, Derek wondered why people found _him_ terrifying, when clearly, Stiles was the real devil incarnate.

Once, Stiles was off on a tangent (as he usually is about something or the other), and this time, it happened to be about how pigs were actually very intelligent creatures. Isaac scoffed at this, and Stiles had simply narrowed his eyes. The next day, Isaac had woken up with approximately five (5) piglet dolls in his bed next to him, and Stiles looked rather chipper the next day, while Isaac seemed to have developed some form of trauma from the surreal incident. Derek had never seen Isaac eat bacon after the incident. 

So, it was reasonable that the impending surprise had Derek in a little bit of an anxious, eagerly-awaiting mood. However, the anxiety won out as the minutes passed by. At 3:00 on the dot, he expected Stiles to burst into the house with the SWAT team at his side. 

Nothing happened. 

Fifteen minutes later, Derek started pacing. 

Thirty minutes later, Derek wondered if he should call the police, or the FBI, or child social services. Would that be overkill? 

At thirty-five minutes later, Derek was about to sniff out Stiles himself, but then a knock at the door poured red-hot relief onto his body. 

The knock was barely done before Derek slammed open the door—

—only to see Scott and Isaac’s surprised faces. 

Derek just grunted his hello (Stiles said it made him sound like a caveman), before allowing the two wolves to come inside. 

“Uh, hello to you too?” Scott said awkwardly. 

They barely situated themselves on the couch, Derek still standing as if poised to interrogate the two, before the alpha immediately asked, “where’s Stiles?” 

Scott and Isaac shared a look, doing nothing to help Derek’s blood pressure, before Scott said, “about that—” 

“Where is he?” Derek said firmly, not wanting to dance around Scott’s words or whatever story he had come up with. Evidently, his eyes must have flashed red, as Isaac cowered and bared his throat instinctively, while Scott’s eyes flashed back. 

“Dude, seriously? Chill with the alpha posturing for a sec,” Scott said, and Derek just knew that the term “alpha posturing” came straight from out of Stiles.

“So, to get the GPA that he needs to apply for Stanford, he needed to get above a ninety percent on his chem test. The thing is, _Harris_ teaches chem, and Harris _hates_ Stiles.” 

Derek waited impatiently through Scott’s story, waiting for him to get to the point. 

“Stiles said something about how he had to do extra well on the test, because that was the only possible way that Harris would even give him something close to an A. He’s been living, breathing, and practically _inhaling_ the chemistry textbook, and he kinda pulled an all-nighter yesterday.” 

“H-he was really excited this morning, something about him looking forward to seeing you today all week, and then he left to take his chem test,” Isaac contributed, still reeling from the effect of Derek’s alpha eyes. 

“But then, afterwards, during lunch he had a little trouble focusing, on like, _everything_. And then he started getting a little light-headed, and ended up _fainting_ in the middle of the cafeteria—” 

“ _What?_ ” Derek snarled, his fangs damn near coming out as a surge of feral protectiveness coursed through him. Isaac shrunk back as if trying to meld with the sofa, but Scott wasn’t quite as fazed. 

“Yeah. They had to take him to the nurse, something about him overworking himself and getting a lack of nutrition this past week, but he’s gonna be fine. They told him to go home and get rest, but uh,” Scott paused, pulling a white box with a red ribbon tying it out of his backpack, “he made us promise to give you this before he left.” 

Derek blinked, anger slowly ebbing out. He was definitely going to have a talk with Stiles about this later, already thinking of how he would tell the younger man that he couldn’t overwork himself like that, but for now, curiosity was winning him over. 

He took the box from Scott’s outstretched hands, not missing the wide-eyed curious looks the two wolves were giving the box. 

He pulled the blood red ribbon off, stowing it in his pocket safely before opening the box. 

A mix of awe and painful bittersweet nostalgia shot straight to his heart as he saw what was inside. 

In his hands was a beautifully crafted snowglobe, one with a house in the middle of the woods and a pack of smiling wolves in front of it, howling to the moon above. On the wooden base of the globe was a small golden plaque that read,

_Happy Birthday, Derek!_

Derek had worked hard since the fire to nail down his emotions brutally, sucking the life out of the them and building walls to shield himself from the horrible, utter sickening pain that he had known for the better half of his life. Here was Stiles, taking down his walls without a care in the world, worming his way into Derek’s iced heart with his kindness and compassion and consideration and his utter Stiles-ness. 

The gift held so much more meaning for Derek than a simple fun rendition of wolves in front of a house— it represented rehashing a loving connotation behind his birthday, a day that used to pass by without any ado, a day that used to just strengthen his emotional barriers as he spent each year alone, a day that held no happiness. 

Now, it was a cause for celebration. 

“Dude, what is it?” Scott said, a small whine in his voice; he could probably smell the conflicting emotions wafting off of Derek as Derek did nothing to conceal it. No, he was stripped to the bone, and it was all because of Stiles. 

“It’s perfect,” he breathed.

Upon further inspection, he saw that the inscription was signed by someone. 

_Yours, Mieczyslaw_

It jolted him back to reality, to a conversation that he and Stiles had one day. 

_“So your idea of a bad date is a coffee date?” Derek had said, one eyebrow raised._

_Stiles nodded seriously. “It’s embarrassing. The baristas never pronounce my name right! I mean c’mon, I know ‘Stiles’ is an uncommon name, but at least I don’t go around parading my real name.”_

_That had caught Derek’s interest._

_“Stiles isn’t your real name?”_

_The boy rolled his eyes. “Hell no! As if life were that easy,” he snorted, “My real name is a monstrosity and I’m taking it to the grave with me. Besides, the only person who knows it is my dad— I tried to tell Scott a few years back, but we both gave up.”_

_Derek couldn’t help his curiosity._

_“What is it?”_

_Stiles had let out a hearty laugh._

_“Oh hell no, sourwolf— and don’t give me those puppy dog eyes, their horribly adorable effects are more devastating than you think.”_

_Derek tried to ignore the heat rising in his cheek as the word “adorable” chorused through his head._

_Stiles smiled at him instead with aggravatingly intelligent, soft eyes. “Nah, I think I’ll tell you when you least expect it. Keep you on your toes, y’know?”_

_Derek snorted. “I’m not easily startled.”_

Damn. Mieczyslaw Stilinski. 

Derek shook his head as a self-indulgent grin soon came to his face. Stiles really did know how to catch him off-guard, and somehow, Derek thinks it was one of the best feelings in the world. 

“Oh my god, is he smiling?” Scott whispered to Isaac, who was trembling at the uncharacteristic display of affection his alpha was presenting. 

“Run while you can,” Isaac whispered back, and the two wolves high-tailed it out of there, leaving Derek to continue dopily smiling at the present. 

Later that night, there was a surprise party for Derek at Lydia’s house. When Derek had seen Stiles, he absolutely basked in the way the tips of his ears turned bright pink when Derek had leaned and whispered his true name in greeting. 

What? Derek knew how to catch Stiles off-guard too.

 

**5.**

“It’s downright criminal how oblivious they are,” Erica said, her eyes just a little blown wide. 

“Are y— are you _turned on_ by this?” Isaac squealed, scandalized. In turn, the blonde simply shushed him with a single manicured nail, devouring the scene before her. 

They were at a club (not the _Jungle_ , no, Stiles and Scott had already had an enlightening experience there) celebrating Allison and Scott’s anniversary with a few drinks. At some point in the night, a guy had bought a drink for Stiles, and Stiles had thanked him but politely rejected him with more decorum than the pack thought he was capable of. 

Hell, Erica half expected Stiles to laugh it off and make some lame joke, but he was actually kind of… thoughtful. However, he failed to notice the glowering look that Derek was giving the other man, one that would even have her quaking in her boots if it were directed towards her. Thank god she wasn’t into pale twinks, she thought sardonically. 

Of course, Stiles then made some joke about how he couldn’t get any girls to dance with so maybe he should just dance with one of the pack, and _of course_ his dance partner ended up being the alpha. 

It was fucking _obscene_. 

At some point, Derek had taken off his shirt because _reasons_ , and Stiles had taken the initiative and decided to grind all over the alpha. He was rolling his hips backwards, his ass flush with Derek’s crotch, and the older was slowly, sensually thrusting his pelvis forward and trailing his hands down Stiles’s arms, before moving them down his abdomen. He was practically staking his claim on the human in the midst of the bodies gyrating around them. 

Stiles let out a laugh of pure joy when Derek leaned forward and lightly bit at his nape. 

Erica gulped, and Isaac looked like he was going to have an aneurysm. 

It was so _hot_. 

“Their kids are going to be so pretty,” Allison said seriously, clearly drunk at this point as one arm was slung around Scott’s shoulder. She then pouted and looked at Scott. “Not prettier than ours, though, right?” 

Scott nodded vigorously, before smiling a dopey huge grin. “Dude, I’m gonna be the _best_ best man ever.” 

“Are they even in a relationship?” Isaac said, confusion lacing his poor, innocent, wide-eyed face.

Erica had vocalized her thoughts on the wolf aloud as well, before Isaac swatted at her, grumbling something about being neither “wide-eyed” nor “innocent”.

“Oh honey, they’re clearly in a relationship,” Lydia said, sipping a margarita while her keen eyes darted to the two, still on the dance floor, “they just don’t know it yet.” 

**+1**  
Stiles was loud in all aspects of life, and as Derek was coming to learn, their shared liaisons as of recent were no exception. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Stiles moaned, and it was downright pornagraphic how he melted underneath Derek’s warm body. The wolf immediately swallowed his vocal groans with a heated kiss, hungry for the taste of Stiles. 

Stiles tried to fight back, tried to grapple for dominance, but after Derek’s eyes flashed red, Stiles was still. And then he tilted his neck up, just barely, a small devilish smile on his lips as his eyes never left Derek’s. 

“ _Alpha_ ,” Stiles whimpered with utter need lacing his voice, and Derek saw red. 

His fangs came out to play, pressing rough kisses to Stiles’s cheek, trailing lower and lower, scraping his teeth down the pale tendon of his bared neck. The boy underneath him shuddered bodily, and Derek’s inner wolf _preened_. 

Smirking in satisfaction, Derek went lower, trailing kisses down his clavicle teasing his perky pink nipples gently with a teasing bite, which elicited a sharp yelp out of Stiles. 

“You’re such a tease,” Stiles whined as Derek lightly bit the skin around Stiles’s abdomen. He loved how soft it was, how if he kneaded at the muscle, he could reduce Stiles to a shivering puddle of pleasure. He loved how Stiles reacted at the palm of his hands.

Stiles loved how possessive Derek was. With a sudden surge of emotion, Stiles clasped Derek’s face with his hands and lightly tugged him back up. When they were nose to nose, amber orbs meeting blue, Stiles whispered it so fiercely that Derek’s breath stopped. 

“I love you.”

There was a pregnant silence, a tension in the air that had been released, a lingering gap as Stiles awaited Derek’s response. 

And then the wolf grinned brilliantly, before leaning down and sucking a mark into Stiles’s neck. 

“Wha— hey, what was that for?” Stiles said indignantly, swatting Derek’s face away as his own flushed brilliantly. 

Derek laughed heartily, pure happiness radiating off of the alpha. 

“I love you too, Stiles.” 

Stiles blinked, before returning the smile. 

“You’re a fucking sap, you know that?” 

In retaliation, Derek blew a raspberry into Stiles’s exposed stomach, and he laughed until tears streamed down his face. 

… 

Fifteen minutes later, the two walked downstairs, shoulders touching and flushes high on the apples of their cheeks, they came face to face with their packs. 

“Um,” Scott was the first to break the awkward silence, “so, pack meeting was supposed to start, like, twenty minutes ago.” 

Erica, Lydia, Scott, and Isaac were clearly eyeing the hickey on Stiles’s neck, while Boyd, Jackson, and Allison looked away politely. 

“So you got your cherry popped, huh?” Erica said bluntly, earning her a shove from Isaac, who she shoved right back.

Stiles just laughed and said, “I guess you could say we’re together.” 

“Dude,” Scott said seriously, “I thought you two were together since like, a year ago.” 

“Shh,” Allison tried to shush her boyfriend, “they’ll figure it out on their own time.” 

“I mean, it’s _about_ fucking time,” Jackson said sharply. 

Stiles couldn’t believe what he was hearing— even _Jackson_?!

“Alright, wait, who all thought we were a couple before today?” 

Every single damn hand went up. 

Stiles didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He looked up at Derek who just shrugged. Stiles decided to go with a third option. 

He leaned up and kissed Derek, their initial quick chaste peck turning into a full-on makeout session. Stiles flipped off Scott and Erica as he heard his best friend gag theatrically while Erica let out a spectacular wolf-whistle. 

Looking back at their memories, he supposed they really were a couple all along.


End file.
